


The Power of Alcohol

by Tridraconeus



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, Death, Drinking, Gen, Impalement, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23118115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tridraconeus/pseuds/Tridraconeus
Summary: Jake nicks some alcohol from Coldwind and shares it at the campfire. Things take a turn for the worse (or the better) when he, Meg, Dwight, and David are called into a trial completely drunk.
Relationships: Evan MacMillan | The Trapper/Some Goddamn Peace And Quiet
Comments: 20
Kudos: 153





	The Power of Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> this is CRACK because i know i should be working on other stuff but it's a little too much for me right now, so in honor of the awful match i had last night with a rank 20 david and my swf friends and the trapper that dealt with our shit, here's some crack

“Fuck,” David groaned. “I’m too fookin’ drunk for this.”

“Wait, you can talk?” Meg’s eyes bugged out and she leaned in, then against him, exceedingly shaky and wobbling on her usually-steady feet. Jake snorted at the sight and took a step forward only to immediately have to lean on David himself. David laughed at both of them and held his arms out like he was a bodybuilder showing off his muscles; Jake and Meg obligingly grabbed one arm each and let him haul them around in an unsteady circle. 

“G-guys,” Dwight interjected, nervous as always but loose and grinning from the alcohol, “we should go do a gen.” 

“Oh, fuck yeah, gens,” Meg agreed. “Where you wanna go?”

Dwight pointed at a quartet of lights behind a pile of crates and led the way, looking intently at the ground to keep himself from falling over. David followed with Jake and Meg still hanging off of him. 

There was still no sign of the Killer, which normally Jake would be exceedingly happy for, but his brain could only hold roughly two and a half thoughts while blitzed as high to the gills as he was. They wove through the grass with no stealth at all until they reached the gen, crouching down around it in various positions of cocked. 

Almost immediately it sparked and backfired in David’s face.

“My bad,” he said. 

Meg was next. “Aw, shit!”

Jake snickered at them both and put two wires together wrong, coating his face in a fine black particulate that he wiped on his sleeve. 

“Guys—” Dwight admonished, only to have his side of the gen also blow up in his face. It had been approximately fifteen seconds.

“Aw, shite. I’m too drunk for this.” David sat back on his haunches and wiped his face. 

“Didn’t know we’d be called into a trial,” Jake offered; as close to an apology as he’d get. He wasn’t sorry, anyhow. 

Dwight was frozen. Meg poked him in the leg and squinted, trying to see what he was starting off into the distance at.

Jake figured it out when his blood ran cold and the sound of a heartbeat rose along his own. 

“Trapper!” David bellowed, shooting to his feet— wobbling— and staggering towards the man instead of running away like he should. “Scatter!”

All three of them minus David scattered like rats under a floodlight, bolting off in different directions.

David screamed a moment later, and then a few seconds after that, and still free to talk showered the Trapper in colorful and creative expletives and insults as he was carried all the way down to the basement. 

Jake and Meg rendezvoused behind a wall, both leaning against it with wobbly legs.

“You wanna get David?”

“Yeah, sure.” Meg flashed him a thumbs-up and sprinted off, weaving because she was still piss drunk and not because she was being chased. That was comforting. 

Jake hunted down another gen and blew it four times before the Trapper came over to chase him off of it. David was still out there, injured but alive. Meg was injured somewhere, still being chased most likely, and Jake had no idea where Dwight was.

He found him at the next gen, puking his guts out and still completely blitzed. 

“Oh, god, Jake.” 

Jake rubbed his back. “Please don’t puke on the gen,” he said with as much bedside manner as he could muster. Dwight broke into a pukey, watery sob.

“H-how could you s-sss-ssay that!” 

“Trapper’s gonna hear you,” he said, with no inflection whatsoever even though the thought of the Trapper tracking Dwight down purely on the basis of him crying really loudly because Jake said something kind of mean was very funny to him for some reason. 

However, Dwight calling the Trapper over to himself would also mean he was calling the Trapper over to Jake, who was honestly not all the way sure he could stand now that he’d gone to his knees to rub Dwight’s back. 

Dwight got to his feet and bolted away just as Jake was grabbed by the hood and hauled unceremoniously over the Trapper’s shoulder. He struggled, cursory and uncoordinated, but it wasn’t enough to do anything and the Trapper carried him to the basement.

“Hey, Jake!” It was Meg; she’d been down in the basement for a bit, hanging on a hook while too blitzed to be in pain from it.

“Hey, Meg!” He called from over the Trapper’s shoulder. The Trapper thrust him down on a hook without even dignifying the strange display with a reaction; Jake thought his breathing sounded a little disapproving anyway.

Dwight joined them about thirty seconds later when the Trapper tore open a locker and hauled him out. Dwight screamed, and pitched, even more uncoordinated than usual.

“Hi, Dwight!” Meg cackled. Jake was grinning too, even though the hook was a dull ache in his shoulder. 

“Nooo! He walked right past me the first time!”

Dwight screamed as he was put on the hook next to Jake’s. The Trapper stared at them for a long second before trudging out of the basement.

A minute later he came trudging back down with a yelling David over his shoulder and a smear left by a bloody fist on his overalls.

“David!” They all yelled, in varying states of coherent and overjoyed. He pitched on the Trapper’s shoulder, bellowing unintelligibly, and went on the hook directly behind Jake. 

“You need to get drunk,” Meg called out. “I bet you’d be nicer when you’re drunk.” 

Her attention turned to her teammates on the hooks beside her. “Let’s all lift up on three!” 

“He’s right there!” Dwight screamed, anguished. 

David yelled something that Jake couldn’t make out, and he himself figured that the worst thing that could happen was that he’d die.

“One—!” 

Meg was swinging herself like a yo-yo. Jake followed suit. The Trapper was watching them. He looked so goddamn tired. 

“Two—!” Dwight yelled again that the Trapper was right there, he’d just hit them. 

“Three!”

Meg did not successfully lever herself off, and neither did Dwight or David. Jake did succeed. He stumbled right into the Trapper’s midsection, bounced off, and ran around the opposite side of the hooks. The cleaver hit wood and Jake used the opportunity to lift David up and off; the Trapper swung and missed again, and they got both Dwight and Meg off, and sprinted towards the stairs.

“Fuck!” David bellowed as he stepped in a bear trap. Meg tripped over him, and then Dwight tripped over Meg, and Jake got hit in the back with the cleaver, so they were all down again within the course of five seconds. The Trapper waded through the sea of their bodies to pick David up first. 

“I’ll fookin’ tear you to pieces!” David punched his back, which did nothing. 

“Fuck yeah! Get ‘im, David!” Meg screamed and pounded her fists on the floor. 

“Get ‘im,” Jake echoed. Dwight was just screaming. 

David died when he was set on the hook. Meg was next, presumably because she’d been the loudest; then Dwight, because he’d stayed in the basement while Jake steadily crawled out. 

Finally, it was just him and the Trapper. He could have sworn he heard an exasperated sigh when he was picked up; he didn’t struggle. He was too drunk for that. He just kind of hung there and giggled at how much of a shitshow this trial had been. 

The final hook was almost a relief. At least, it was until he woke up at the campfire hungover.

**Author's Note:**

> new perk: drunk as fuck  
> automatically weave when running.


End file.
